Mortals
by broody
Summary: In which two immortals find it increasingly difficult to have a decent sparring match. Figuratively speaking, of course.


The story takes place during the episode 7 of the season I (yes, the god-awful demon dog arc), during Earl's and Co. visit to the beach, to be precise. Enjoy!

**Mortals**

"We are going to the beach! We are going to the beach!"

The ruckus three trustworthy servants of the Phantomhive manor were making almost made Sebastian, with his fine-tuned demonic hearing, wish he could cover his ears. It always fascinated him how fast mortals managed to switch between completely opposite moods. Fifteen minutes ago, before he came to announce a picnic at the sea, those three wore expressions that suggested the end of the world was at hand and now they were jumping around like overzealous young gazelles. And not very graceful ones at that, he had to add.

"They are quite lively today, aren't they?" a soft voice next to him said. Butler threw a sharp glance at a demure young woman in a maid's outfit walking beside him. She kept her eyes politely lowered. "Indeed." he replied mildly.

* * *

Sebastian was busy spreading the blanket on the sand, while the other servants run off to the changing cabins. The sky was overcast so that the water looked dull grey and rather uninviting, but that did not seem to dampen the spirits of the three one bit. Tanaka already occupied the left corner of the blanket, his ever-present cup of tea giving off fresh steam.

"Wouldn't you like to take a dip too, Ms. Blanc?" the butler inquired.

"Thank you, but my master did not see it fit to provide me with proper clothes." the woman seemed to be intent on avoiding his gaze.

Sebastian turned his attention to his master. Ciel was lounging in a folding chair absorbed in a book he brought from London. What a sullen child his master was; he did not even go near the water let alone tried its temperature. But then this was how Sebastian liked him.

"I wonder if I should set the picnic already," Sebastian mused half to himself, still eyeing the boy. "I am sure they will be hungry quite soon..."

"Shouldn't you be more careful with the lunch, Mr. Michaelis?" the silver-haired maid was regarding him from the corner of her eye with a curious expression. Not a trace of shyness was left in her voice. "This village is not an ordinary place. If you get sloppy, a bird might swoop in and whisk it away."

"Is that so?" the butler turned to her and smiled placidly. "If that is the case, I will just have to make sure I snap off the wings of any bird who dares to try." He finished, making the smile just a fraction wider to display his (slightly longer than should be according to the standard design) canines.

Something flashed in the maid's eyes and she opened her month to retort but before she could utter a sound the air was split by a piercing scream.

"UWAAAH! Mr. Sebastian, how can you say such cruel things! It's not bird's fault it wants to eat! "

"…Finny, I meant it figuratively. Well, the bird part anyway."

"Fi…gu… huh?" the gardener looked up at him in surprise, blinking away the forming tears.

"Never mind it. Now please stop crying and go enjoy yourself. The others are waiting."

Finny's sunny disposition returned with a record speed. Sebastian watched the youth ran into the water with abandon raising miniature gazers in his wake. "Really," the butler sighed. "You were saying, Ms. Blanc?"

"You should be wary of scorching your talons, crow," the maid proceeded, her normally soft voice resonant with the metal of crusader's swords clashing against the emblazoned shields. "The divine flames shall purify all that is unclean!"

"You threaten _me_ with the flames?" the pleasant claret of the butler's eyes was rapidly being replaced with unnervingly shimmering magenta as he seemed to grow even taller. "Let me tell you, Ms. Blanc, I am quite at home with the flames, after all, our home is a glowing inferno…" he never got to finish his tirade.

"Sebastian! This is an unfair accusation! I have never set the whole mansion on fire, just the kitchen!" Bardroy, dripping wet from the last dive and wearing an almost pouting expression, presented himself behind the startled butler.

Sebastian deflated slightly. Angela appeared to be counting to ten or whatever it was that his heavenly counterpart did to keep her temper in check. For his part, Sebastian indulged in a brief, sweet fantasy of showing Bard exactly what kind of inferno he really had in mind. He could almost smell the charred flesh and hear the gurgled pleas and... "Sebastian! You are spacing out again!"… ah, yes.

"Bard, it is extremely rude to eavesdrop on other people's conversations. And, no, I was not referring to your putative ability to reduce the whole mansion to a shouldering ruin although I am sure you will manage it too one day. Now go bother someone else!"

"Geez, I get it, man, no need to get all fired up." the cook backed away slowly, sensing a warning in his superior's voice. Or maybe it was the unnatural hue of Sebastian's eyes which seemed to be reflecting the afternoon sun. The latter was nowhere in sight, not that it would help seeing that it was only eleven in the morning. Bard wisely chose not to dwell on it too long.

The two immortals look at each other wearily. The mood seemed to be ruined beyond repair.

"So, it is Angela now?" Sebastian ventured after a while. "Subtlety is not exactly your strong point, is it?"

"I don't care for your tone, Mr. Named-after-a-famous-expert-in-demonology." Angela replied stiffly.

"It is an ancient and elegant name!" Sebastian was visibly offended.

"Not to mention it has the same initials as sadomasochism."

"Says a woman who clearly enjoys being whipped."

A resonating thump brought their attention back to reality. Meilin was sprawled on the blanket next to them, not quite passed out but not entirely conscious either. Her condition apparently resulted from an excessive blood loss via the nasal cavities.

"As expected of Phantomhive servants." Sebastian muttered sardonically. For a moment he considered delving into Meilin's mind to find out what image produced such a stunning effect, but decided against it. Mortals rarely managed to surprise him but when they did it could be quite the scarring experience. Some things even demons were better off without knowing.

"I will attend to young master," the butler turned to leave with a sigh. "Can you please take care of your colleague?"

Angela nodded, busying herself with reviving the still incoherent maid. "We will finish later, Sebastian," she said silkily. "When there are fewer distractions." Her smile held a promise of the divine retribution, and possibly a bit more on top of it.

**Fin**

Author rant: It always made me wonder why in the anime Ciel does not question Sebastian on the account of him knowing about Angela/Ash? He recognized that Grelle was a reaper and he could not tell Angela was an angel? Really?


End file.
